A Carol, Mournful, Holy
by Stefanie Dale
Summary: One of the pilots, the last surviving, awaits in his cell for whatever fate might await him, as well as reflecting on the immediate circumstances which led to his incarceration.


"A Carol, Mournful, Holy"  
By: Stefanie  
  
***Author's note: I am an evilly bad person. *rg* I'm not quite sure what   
inspired this, but I'm just gonna blame my head. ^_~ Um, I guess you'd   
call this AU, considering it's a DEATH-FIC! *vrg* Was reading it to   
myself and got all choked up, if that's any implication as to *how* angsty   
this fic is. Many thanks to Jadey-chan for her help (and the title! ^_^) and   
whatnot. Uhm, Gundam Wing isn't mine... ^_^***  
  
  
Duo Maxwell didn't even bother to cast his violet eyes upon the cold gray   
walls of his cell. He'd already memorized every crack and crevice in the   
cement three times over. Not like he had anything better to do. No cell-  
mates to antagonize... Duo furiously blinked back the tears that threatened   
to spill over his bruised cheeks.  
  
He *knew* that anyone who got close to him would die. Hell, everyone   
else died; why should they be different? Why did he try to fool himself?   
Because they were Gundam pilots? No matter. Gundam or not, no one   
escapes from death. Not even them.  
  
Death found Trowa first. One wouldn't think someone like Trowa Barton   
would have been the first to die, but Trowa wasn't going to fight back   
against Quatre. Granted, the blond pilot was whacked out on that ZERO   
system, but Trowa wasn't going to attack. Could you blame him?   
  
Quatre was miserable after that incident. He wasn't even a shadow of his   
former self, moping around, putting barely enough concentration in the   
missions to get them accomplished. So, on that ship, during that little   
"duel" with Dorothy Catalonia, Quatre didn't have enough desire to live in   
order to fight her off properly. That, paired with the fact that she, oh,   
*stabbed him,* ended the little pilot's life.  
  
Duo curled in on himself the best he could. No matter how much he'd   
tried to block those memories from his mind's eye, they constantly   
replayed like a bad horror flick's sequels. Of course, had this all just been   
a bad horror flick, Duo, in his shock, would have been next on the   
deceased list. However, fortunately or unfortunately, this was not a movie.   
It was horrid, filthy real life, and Shinigami was not to die today.  
  
The scene in Duo's head switched to Wufei and Treize. That fight was   
almost beautiful, had it not in fact been so ugly. Treize and Wufei, both   
with their codes of honor, almost "danced" through the inky blackness of   
space, turning their personal engagement into more of a ballet than a   
battle. But even that which is most beautiful can prove fatal, as it did that   
day when Wufei didn't turn quickly enough to dodge the laser beam aimed   
for him. Duo was at least grateful that Wufei died in an "honorable" battle,   
though Duo could really see nothing "honorable" about this whole mess.  
  
Sighing, Duo allowed his mind to drift to that final battle. OZ figured out   
that Heero and Zechs were busy doing their own little thing and one   
Gundam against an entire army didn't stand much of a chance. Heero and   
Zechs had their little rematch which left Wing Gundam in such a pitiful   
shape that Duo was surprised it lasted as long as it did. Maybe that's   
because Heero Yuy was the pilot, Duo thought sadly. Duo wryly thanked   
whoever needed to be thanked that he'd been rendered unconscious by   
that time and was therefore unable to witness the end of Heero Yuy's life.  
  
Duo fumed in anger at the fact that, once again, the self-destruct button on   
his Gundam failed to work. He was right: anyone who got close to him   
died, but Shinigami *can't* die, which is why Duo Maxwell sat in his cell.  
  
Duo bitterly wished they would kill him. With four Gundams pilots   
dead and himself locked away, the war was pretty much over. OZ took   
*everything* from him. His home, his childhood, this cause, his...   
friends? Had Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, and Heero become *friends* of Duo   
Maxwell? Too little, too late, he thought grimly. They traded his   
clothes for those of the drab gray prisoner variety. They even took his   
braid. Duo grimaced at the memory...   
  
He'd awoke from his unconscious state to find himself in the firm grasps   
of several OZ soldiers. Once he realized that another held his hair and a   
pair of scissors, they'd called for more soldiers to hold down the kicking   
and screaming pilot. As the soldier sliced off his hair, it felt as if he'd   
sliced off Duo's arm, it hurt so much. With those scissors, OZ had taken   
literally everything from Duo. He didn't even have his past life to which   
he could cling anymore. That braid held his life on L2, and now... it really   
was gone.   
  
Duo winced as the blunt flaps brushed along his jawbone. For the   
millionth time today he tucked his hair behind his ear, stifling a sob as the   
prickly strands poked at his fingers. How *could* they? The rational part   
of him knew the "why:" he could hide lock picks in his braid, and with the   
removal of the braid also went his supply of picks and escape route. Still,   
Duo couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that OZ had finally taken   
*everything* from him.   
  
A slight noise from behind the door brought Duo out of his depressing   
thoughts and back to his even more depressing reality. The door opened,   
flooding Duo's small cell with the glaring fluorescent light of the hallway.   
When Duo's eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change of brightness, he   
didn't bother hiding his contempt for the figure standing there. "You'll   
forgive me if I don't bow," he sneered.  
  
Lady Une looked down at the boy. "I wasn't expecting you to."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence in which neither person spoke. Duo   
finally broke the quiet. "What do you want?"  
  
"His Excellency requested I speak with you," Lady Une answered.  
  
"Fine." Duo turned from her. "Treize sent you here to speak, so speak. Say   
what you gotta say, then get hell out."  
  
"You don't seem to be in the position to order anyone, 02."  
  
Duo snarled as he leapt to his feet and charged at the woman. Fortunately   
for Lady Une, the shackles around Duo's wrists prevented him from   
travelling any further than two feet from the wall. This, however, did not   
prevent him from screaming at her. "You bitch! Your 'Excellency's' little   
organization killed them! I don't wanna speak to you, or to him or to any   
of you OZ bastards, so just go!" he cried, tears spilling down his cheeks as   
he fought against his chains. "Just go..." he sobbed. He didn't care if   
anyone saw him cry anymore.  
  
Lady Une calmly stood her ground and allowed Duo to finish. Once he   
had composed himself a bit she crossed over to a small bench on the   
opposite side of the cell. "You assume it is Treize who caused all of this?"   
she asked.  
  
"OZ did, and Treize is OZ, so yeah."  
  
"You believe Treize Khushrenada to be ruthless and cold-hearted?" She   
received no answer. "You think he relishes all this death and destruction?"   
Duo was silent. "Well Maxwell, try looking at this from the other side.   
Five boys wreaking havoc. Five renegades, blowing up and killing   
countless machines and people. Five *children* who, because things were   
not going their way, took it into their own hands to 'make things right' for   
the colonies-"  
  
"We had to make things right because they were wrong!" Duo shot back.   
"You, sitting in your nice homes, with plenty to eat and not ever having to   
watch your back hoping you didn't find a knife in it..."  
  
Another silence followed this outburst. After about five minutes, it was   
Lady Une who spoke. "It appears that neither side has taken the time to   
properly judge the other."  
  
"We had our missions."  
  
"And we had our roles to play, our scripts to follow."  
  
"Too bad neither side knew how to properly compromise, huh?"  
  
Lady Une nodded her agreement. "But that is not what I was sent to   
discuss."  
  
Duo waited for her to continue; when she didn't, he cocked his head to the   
side in curiosity. "Say whatcha gotta say," he muttered.  
  
Standing, Lady Une pulled a syringe out of her pocket. "You have a   
choice to make, Maxwell."  
  
Duo rested his eyes on the vial she held. "Let me guess. I can rot here   
forever, or you can shoot that stuff into me and kill me."  
  
"Actually no. You *will* be executed, but the choice is when and how,"   
she explained in her calm alto.   
  
"Okay..." Duo said. "Now would be the injection. Later would be...?"  
  
"Public execution. Firing squad, actually."  
  
Duo rested his chained wrists on his knees. "I don't suppose I get to sleep   
on it?" The look on Lady Une's face told him the answer was "no" - he   
had to make his decision now.  
  
Exposing the underside of his left arm, he locked eyes with Lady Une.   
"There is no way you people are going to display me like some trophy.   
Give me the injection."  
  
Lady Une gently took his arm, then, with a sigh, plunged the needle into   
the vein.   
  
  
The poison shot through him like fire, but Duo felt no pain, even though   
he knew he was dying. So this is how Shinigami goes. He closed his   
eyes and allowed himself to look at the images playing there.  
  
There was Trowa and his mysterious emerald eyes, hiding so much...  
  
Quatre, bright eyes and innocent smile, always willing to help those in   
need...  
  
  
Wufei and his endless pursuit of justice...  
  
And Heero. That crazy fool whom Duo found himself thinking about   
every day. Even with his "omae o korosu," Duo still found it to be a   
personal gain whenever Heero appeared semi-human...  
  
Duo could see them, waiting for him...  
  
  
Lady Une watched as Duo's face settled into the peaceful slumber of   
death. Blinking back a few times a wetness from her eyes that *couldn't*   
be tears, she unchained his wrists and left the cell.  
  
~owari~  



End file.
